


woven, woolen

by windingwoods



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, FE8 Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 07:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12501524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windingwoods/pseuds/windingwoods
Summary: Saleh turns to his head to him slowly. He’s sitting by his other side and the whole thing feels toasty enough Knoll could honestly close his eyes and doze off until they’re done withNada Kuya and the Dragon Sword. For the sixth time.





	woven, woolen

**Author's Note:**

> truth be told this is part of a much bigger modern au knoll/saleh au of mine where knoll ends up living at saleh's place that i'm too lazy to write in full, so you guys get this snippet instead. i just want this sad mage guy to be adopted by a big and loving family.
> 
> written for day 4 - prompt comfort!

Myrrh’s body is warm where it’s curled up next to Knoll’s side. Her knees are neatly tucked under her chin and her elbow digs just slightly in between Knoll’s ribs as she shifts under the quilt blanket Dara’s made for her. 

She’s looking at the TV with the most rapt expression he’s seen her making since the one time Tethys came over to make “the biggest,  _ fanciest _ chocolate cake you’ve ever seen”, as Tethys herself had put it. 

“Isn’t this her sixth rewatch in a month?” he asks Saleh in a whisper, low enough that Myrrh won’t hear it— hopefully.

Saleh turns to his head to him slowly. He’s sitting by his other side and the whole thing feels toasty enough Knoll could honestly close his eyes and doze off until they’re done with  _ Nada Kuya and the Dragon Sword _ . For the sixth time.

“She believes such a cinematic masterpiece always has new details to discover,” Saleh says placidly. On the screen Eirika yells one of her lines and slashes through a CGI monster with her sword. “Her words. Also, this is the first time you’ve agreed to watch it with us.”

Something inside of Knoll rattles at that, like a clapper inside a tiny bell, but by the time Lyon’s face comes up (he looks so different on TV, his eyes are a different colour altogether) Myrrh presses closer against him while Saleh covers his hand with his own and Knoll doesn’t feel sick and hollow for once. 

The rest of the movie goes by smoothly until the credits are rolling and it’s bed time for Myrrh, who’s now trying to become one with the couch, taking Knoll down with her as her human pillow. Her little arms are wrapped around his and the look she gives Saleh when he manages to disentangle them is almost inconsolable on a Myrrh Faces scale. 

Nonetheless she lets him pick her up and mumbles a sleepy good night to Knoll with a wave of her hand as they round the corner.

By the time Saleh’s made it back to the living room Knoll is taking up Myrrh’s legacy and burrowing himself in the quilt blanket, the hand-knitted wool still warm and smelling vaguely of detergent. He’s half expecting to get scolded in that calm way Saleh seems to always keep about him, instead there’s a dip in the couch and a quiet sigh as his little nest gets disrupted by Saleh leaning into him. 

Knoll raises an arm to let him under the blanket and, most surprising of all, Saleh accepts it with a satisfied noise in the back of his throat. The lines around his eyes make him look kind of weary but there’s a tired smile on his lips when he looks down at Knoll that feels like a well-worn sweater, one of the many Dara’s made for him and for Myrrh and for Knoll too since he started living with them. 

“What’s your favorite colour, child?” she’d asked him with that raspy voice of hers and a week later there was a purple cardigan sitting on his bed with a note that said  _ welcome to Caer Pelyn _ . 

“Thanks,” is saying Saleh now, low like he’s afraid he might wake Myrrh up, “for doing this for her. She really— she cares about this a lot.”

There is so much in that  _ this  _ it makes Knoll’s head spin a bit: it’s about him, the outsider who’s ended up family somehow, after months of stumbling around a house that wasn’t truly his, but it’s about them too, the people who took him in and weaved their lives with his like stitches. Myrrh takes a movie night together just as seriously as she takes everything else.

“Plus,” and Saleh’s voice gets even lower, eyes lucid against the pink spreading across his cheeks. “It was quite nice.”

Knoll inhales, maybe a little sharply. “Even on your sixth rewatch?”

“It’s a cinematic masterpiece, Knoll.”

They both snort at that and Knoll makes sure to apologize to Eirika and Lyon in his head as he readjusts himself with Saleh’s arm around his shoulders. 

“Ewan is coming back tomorrow, right?” he asks, and after getting a positive hum in response he says, “I can pick him up at the station. It’s getting colder.”

Saleh hums again, presses a kiss on his forehead. “If you do, mind picking up the groceries?” 

“Sure, the kids are going to riot if there’s no sweets by tomorrow night.”

“You mean Ewan’s going to riot and Myrrh’s going to deny she ever instigated it.” 

Knoll grimaces. “Yeah,  _ that _ .”

Saleh’s chest rumbles below his own as he laughs and it’s such a hearty sound Knoll thinks it might have the roughness of wool and the faint smell of detergent were it something solid, tangible. 

“We should sleep,” he says out loud, to which Saleh agrees with a nod of his head, tickling Knoll’s skin with his hair. 

“Just one more second,” comes the muffled reply and he lets himself relax in the lull of it, his head filled with thoughts of car drives with Ewan’s incessant chattering, grocery shopping, loud family dinners around the table. 

 


End file.
